


Young Love & Tailored Uniforms

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I suck at tagging, but I promise it's good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: She snorted as she raised one of his arms, curling the tape around his bicep. “You say yes to me, but I’ve seen how you react when people touch you, Ratonhnhaké:ton—like a finicky cat.” Grinning, she quipped, “You don’t like being touched.” He went quiet as she went between the tape and a little notebook, jotting down numbers. She took the measurements around his other arm, then his back and waist, but fumbled as she reached his neck.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Young Love & Tailored Uniforms

**Author's Note:**

> I had to look up like seven different times what kinds of tools tailors/seamstresses had and if they even had measuring tape. I hope you enjoy! -Thorne

She hummed quietly, fingers slipping in between the pieces of fabric as she sewed. The afternoon sun shone through her open window, making the navy-blue fabric appear cerulean, reminding her of the waves that crashed against the shore below. With the openness, came the cool breeze, something needed during the warm summer month. The day had been calm, something she’d been thankful for; it allowed her to work efficiently, and if she kept at this rate, she’d have the skirt done by the end of the night. As she pulled the needle through the silk fabric, an uneasy feeling settled over her, and with a quick glance to her side, she yelped, falling from the stool. “ _Oh Christ_!”

The young man offered an apologetic smile. “I am sorry, (Y/N). I was calling you, but you were not responding.” He held out his hand, letting her take it to pull her up.

(Y/N) huffed, but a smile crossed her lips and she replied, “No, no, it’s alright, Ratonhnhaké:ton.” She cleared her throat, asking, “Is there something I can do for you?”

He nodded, but seemed unsure of how to ask before he sighed and admitted, “Robert says I cannot captain the Aquila without proper attire, so I was wondering if you could make something for me?”

(Y/N) frowned, inquiring, “Why not go to Ellen? She’s the seamstress here.”

Her reply drew the wrong result from him because his face fell and he nodded, murmuring, “Of course, I apologize for bothering you.” Her eyes widened and before he could turn, she reached out, placing her hand to his arm.

He looked at her and she clarified, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like _that_ , Ratonhnhaké:ton!” (Y/N) sighed, gesturing to the skirt. “I just meant that…my sewing skills aren’t _perfect_.” She looked at him. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, and I know that Ellen would be the best choice to make something for you.”

Connor frowned and shook his head, disagreeing, “You are wrong, (Y/N). You sewed many of the clothes before Ellen came to the homestead. Anyone here would tell you that your work is perfect.” Her cheeks warmed at his compliments and he added, “Besides…” He stood awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of him to hide it as he confessed, “I wish for _you_ to make my suit.”

(Y/N) couldn’t fight the grin that crossed her lips, so she dropped her gaze, happily whispering, “Okay…I’ll do it.”

“Thank you (Y/N).”

For a moment, neither said a word, then she said, “I’m not sure if I have your measurements written down…would you mind me taking them really quickly?” He nodded and she motioned to him. “I’ll need you to take off your coat.” Connor obeyed, removing the outer layer of his robes, and (Y/N) grabbed the measuring tape and raised it, only to stop, questioning, “Is it alright if I touch you?”

His brows furrowed and he replied, “ _Yes_?”

She snorted as she raised one of his arms, curling the tape around his bicep. “You say _yes_ to _me_ , but I’ve seen how you react when people touch you, Ratonhnhaké:ton—like a finicky cat.” Grinning, she quipped, “You don’t like being touched.” He went quiet as she went between the tape and a little notebook, jotting down numbers. She took the measurements around his other arm, then his back and waist, but fumbled as she reached his neck. (Y/N) swallowed thickly, trying not to feel the brush of his skin against her fingers. She tried to ignore his eyes on her, but with the weight of his stare, it was almost impossible.

As she fit the measuring tape around his neck, he murmured, “I do not like being touched.” She nearly drew her hands away when he added, “But I do not mind when it _you_ are the one doing so.” (Y/N) stumbled over her words, until all she could offer him was a giggle that made her internally cringe from how girly it sounded. She pulled back after a few moments, though she’d never tell him, she took a bit longer than it would’ve usually taken her to measure.

She wanted to curse her hammering heart at how flustered she felt next to him, but instead, she coolly asked, “Are there any particular colors you’d like in it?”

(Y/N) motioned to the fabric roles on the wall and he walked over, looking them over before stating, “I would like blue.”

She stepped over to him, wondering aloud, “Hmm…I could use blue for the main coat…accent with a greyish-white trim…gold buttons…” She looked down, gently taking hold of his arm. “I’ll assume you’ll want the left arm free enough to arm the hidden blade?” He nodded and she continued, “Have to make a hat as well…I might actually need Ellen’s help with that one.” She glanced at him, pulling a smile. “I haven’t made many hats.” Connor matched her smile, but she quickly looked away as the sight of such joy on his face made her heart skip a beat. Turning around, she marched for the door. “Alright, I’m off to Ellen’s to sort this out.”

Before she left, he called, “Thank you again, (Y/N).”

** A Few Weeks Later: **

She paced the floor nervously until his voice reached her. “ _You’re wearing a groove in my floor, young lady_.”

She glanced at the older man next to her, suddenly glued to the spot she was in. “Oh, sorry Mister Davenport.”

He offered her a heatless huff in return, muttering, “ _Young fools in love_.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she looked over, asking, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” His retort was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and they turned their attention to them, watching Connor’s descent. She took a few steps forward, meeting him at the bottom, and reached up to run her fingers along the fabric.

Connor looked at her, inquiring, “How does it look?”

(Y/N) blinked, stuttering, “I—uh— _you look great_.”

He met her gaze, honeyed eyes boring into hers as he asked, “I do?”

She nodded mutely, then murmured, “ _I mean you look good in anything but seeing you in a captain’s uniform_.” (Y/N) shut her mouth to avoid rambling on and finished with, “ _You look great, Ratonhnhaké:ton._ ”

Evidently, he seemed as flustered as she was becoming because he lowered his gaze to his hands, fumbling with the gauntlet at his wrist as he stated, “You made the left cuff different from the right.” She nodded, then held out her hand. He held his arm out, letting her turn it over to show his wrist.

“The left cuff has slightly less fabric so you can easily remove and add the gauntlet.” (Y/N) circled him, softly placing her fingers to his back, almost giggling at how he tensed from her touch. “The back is lined with leather,” she came around to his front, placing a hand to his chest, “as is the inside for adequate protection.” She pulled her hand away and smiled. “A uniform fit not only for a captain, but also an assassin.”

Connor smiled at her and Achilles walked over, observing, “Most sea captains wear buckled shoes.”

(Y/N) huffed, looking at the man. “Do you honestly think Ratonhnhaké:ton would wear buckled shoes and trousers that stopped at his knees?”

Connor’s pinched face seemed to answer her question, and Achilles chuckled before gesturing to his arms. “You added your own flare to it.”

(Y/N) glanced at the arm bands, tracing them as she approved, “It’s a piece of his people to carry with him while he’s off saving the world.”

He met her eyes, nodding as he agreed, “My journey will take me far…it will be good to be reminded of them when I am great distances.” He cleared his throat, standing straight. “I must go to the docks so Robert and I can set sail now.”

Before she could stop it, (Y/N) beamed, “ _Oh, can I go with you_?” Connor nodded and she started off when he stopped her, offering his arm.

She looked between his arm and him, causing him to sheepishly state, “ _I have heard it is rude to not escort a lady_.”

(Y/N) let out a giggle as she looped her arm through his, reaching over with her other to squeeze his bicep. “Such a _gentleman_ , Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

He looked away from her, but she could see the red beginning to creep up his cheeks, and as they walked through the doors, Achilles rolled his eyes, grunting, “ _Young fools in love_.”


End file.
